


My Body Is A Cage

by BWPR



Category: Dark (TV 2017)
Genre: Apocalypse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Family Bonding, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Bondage, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BWPR/pseuds/BWPR
Summary: The boy once known as Hanno realized that there was something very wrong with him when he first met Jonas Kahnwald. He had been waiting for the boy who would become Adam, excited and nervous at the prospect of being the first face the other would see in 1921. But looking down now upon Jonas, emotions that he had never experienced before came bubbling to the surface. He wondered if this was the moment he dedicated himself to the other, the Noah to his Adam.
Relationships: Elisabeth Doppler & Jonas Kahnwald, Elisabeth Doppler & Noah | Hanno Tauber, Jonas Kahnwald & Martha Nielsen, Jonas Kahnwald & Noah | Hanno Tauber, Jonas Kahnwald/Noah | Hanno Tauber
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	My Body Is A Cage

**Author's Note:**

> There weren't nearly enough fanfics for this ship, so here we go. Not beta read, so beware of any mistakes. Enjoy!

The boy once known as Hanno realized that there was something very wrong with him when he first met Jonas Kahnwald. He had been waiting for the boy who would become Adam, excited and nervous at the prospect of being the first face the other would see in 1921. If he did this right, he would be rewarded. He would be allowed to travel for the very first time, truly becoming Noah, the name given to him.

Imagine his surprise when the boy finally did appear, only to collapse to the ground. Noah, who had been leaning against a rock and trying to appear aloof, instantly panicked. His older self hadn't told him about this part, about the boy god laying prone in the dirt. Even while knowing that it was impossible, there was still a moment where he believed Jonas to be dead. But dead boys don't bleed all over his good pair of pants.

As he analyzed the other teen that he was hovering over, there was a moment where his heart seemed to just skip a beat. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was Adam, maybe it was the dirt smeared over his face, maybe it was the open wound that traced around the boy's throat like a permanent collar; Noah couldn't really say. But looking down upon Jonas, emotions that he had never experienced before came bubbling to the surface. He wondered if this was the moment he dedicated himself to the other, the Noah to his Adam.

He didn't hesitate to take the traveler into his arms, though he was surprised how light the other was. It was concerning, but not more so than the gunshot in his leg. The innkeeper was all but useless as he rushed around, trying to find bandages and clean water. Agnes was nosy as ever, and he wasn't quite sure why the idea of anyone else touching Jonas while he was vulnerable like this ignited an anger in him. But still he harshly sent her away with a snarl, the girl huffing at his dismissal while clearly trying not to sniffle. He fixed up the gunshot wound first, fishing out an unfamiliar bullet before cleaning the injury. He used close, tight stitches, hoping to reduce any scarring. But with the neck wound, which was no longer even bleeding, Noah couldn't help but gently trace with his fingers.

The boy on the bed, with his pants cut off of him and his outer coats discarded, was angelic to his eyes. And while he knew that the story behind the other's wounds were probably traumatic, he couldn't help but be satisfied that there was a part of him in the other now too. He had been the one to carry the other here, he had sewn up the wound on his leg, and now he claimed ownership over the scar that he was sure would form on the other's neck. Because Noah may belong to Adam, but Jonas belonged to Hanno.

As he sat in the corner of the room, watching over the other as he slept, Noah wondered if his older counterpart had been in this position before. It only made sense, but why hadn't he said anything? Had he too felt this tightness in his chest, this overwhelming fascination with just existing in the same room as the other? Noah had been raised Catholic, not that he believed in any god other than the boy before him, and he knew that what he felt was wrong. But if hell wasn't real, what did he have to worry for? He had only been told as much as he needed to know, so he didn't really know much about Jonas himself, only the things he would do. But Noah could almost imagine the way his eyes would look, staring up into his own. How his voice would sounded, saying his name.

By the time Jonas was opening his eyes the next day, Noah had already sponge bathed the other, changed him into some of his own clothes, and placed bandages over his neck. Eager to impress, he acted nonchalant again as he carved off slices of an apple, smirking when those baby blues instantly sought out his own. It was impressive, the way the other teen managed to sit up despite the fact that he still had to be in agonizing pain. Noah had to stop himself from assisting him as he stood. It was clear that his leg couldn't really take his weight, but Jonas seemed determined to walk. It was clear that he didn't know who he was, that he didn't recognize him from his older appearance, but Noah didn't fault him. It was a stare down, as they both tried to anticipate the other's thoughts and actions. But he didn't want to startle the injured boy, so he remained seated.

"People say Erna can't help but take in stray dogs," he attempted to start a conversation, but the other didn't seem to find his words worthy of a response. He was looking around the room now, though his eyes kept flicking towards the door. While Jonas looked everywhere but directly at him, his eyes were locked on the other.

"I pictured you differently," Noah found himself blurting out, tracing the other's appearance appreciatively.

"Why did you say that?" Jonas's tone was guarded, harsh even, as he seemed to view him in a different light. And Noah wasn't sure why his simple statement had set the other off, but he had to fight down the guilt and anxiety that attempted to take hold. Instead he sighed as Jonas rushed out of the room, leaving him behind without another word. He knew where the other was going without even needing to be told beforehand, but he also knew what the teen would find. If the traveler had just waited a moment, Noah could've just told him that the tunnels weren't open yet; after all, he had dug them. So he ignored his dejection and followed silently behind, waiting on a nearby rock for Jonas to discover the news for himself. It was odd, sitting in the place where he had killed the man that had been his biological father. He could almost still see the bloodstain, could almost hear the sound the pickaxe had made when it made contact. It was an order from Adam, a test to his beliefs, and while it made him sick, he felt no loss for Bartosz. The man had known Jonas, and yet he had never shared those sacred stories with Hanno, something he found rather selfish.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he began to hear the stumbling footsteps coming from within the cave. It was only moments later that the boy himself emerged, covered yet again in grime. He sighed at the treatment of his clothes, and how the dirty look didn't fit the other well. Jonas seemed soft in a way, fragile maybe was a better word. There were tear tracks left in the new layer of dirt that sullied his features, but Noah decided it was better not to point that out.

"It's not open yet," he called out as the other made to pass by him without even looking up from the ground, clearly in some sort of daze, "It'll be 33 more years before it does." While the boy stopped, seeking him out with his eyes, he made no move to come join him or to take the proffered apple slice. With this new rejection, he threw the rest of the apple to the side and got up with a grunt. He had hoped that maybe the sharing of information and food would ease Jonas's suspicious, but it only made it worse.

"So you know about it?" Noah thought it was common sense, but he guessed that other couldn't help but be cautious. And as much as he wanted to talk more, wanted to get to know the other, they were out of time. His older self was expecting them, and Noah wasn't at liberty to disappoint.

"They're waiting for you," he stated rather than gracing the other with an actual response.

"Who?"

"Sic Mundus," he replied as if it was obvious, but Jonas didn't respond to the name, "You want to go home, right? At least, that's what they say."

"Who's that?"

"The travelers," he whispered, stepping closer and into his personal space, taking pleasure in the way it caused the other to shiver. Noah liked being this close to the boy, liked the way that he smelled like him. But he forced himself away, leading the way to the headquarters. If he liked the way Jonas silently followed, he couldn't say. But he would admit to preening when delivering the other to the church. The church that Noah had built himself, that had been built for his god. The other clearly recognized the structure, even taking a moment to admire the exterior before entering. But he had noticed the way Jonas had glanced down the hill, and the paleness to his face when he didn't find what he had been seeking. Later, Noah would realize that he had been looking for the cemetery where his father would rest.

He was uncomfortable, handing over the boy to his older self. There was a sharpness to his eyes, an anger as he saw how Noah regarded the other teen. Was it foolish to be jealous of one's own self? Noah didn't think so. It was obvious that there was some type of feeling left in the false priest for the boy, an affection that could never quite be snubbed out. They were the same, sick with their obsession over the god who would deliver them to paradise, who promised them freedom from pain while causing it.

"You're one of them," Jonas accused, something dull like disappointment coloring his words. And for the first time, he didn't immediately response, hesitating to reveal his loyalties. His older self caught it with his eagle eyes, and Noah was effectively chided by the look the other gave him.

"Not yet. But I will be soon," he admitted, but the technicalities didn't seem to matter to the teen. Jonas allowed himself to be whisked away without a backwards glance. It stung a bit, and this was only compounded by how his older self had no problem guiding the other with a hand on the small of his back. Noah was left alone in the chapel that he had built, which suddenly seemed nowhere as impressive as it had before.

He expected more of a reaction from his counterpart when the priest returned, but instead the other just seemed tired. As he relayed the directions from Adam smoothly, almost like he was reciting a speech he had memorized long ago, there was a moment where he paused. Noah looked up at the other questioningly, warily, to find the man looking back at him with something like longing.

"We are not free in our actions because we are not free in our desires. But you must choose your path, always remember that," he advised haltingly, awkwardly, like he was putting his words together, "You must go now." Noah didn't really get what the other meant, and he didn't really have time to think it over before he was being stoved through a wormhole.

As he walked into the future, he followed the map he was given to the Kahnwald house. It was here that he found the middle aged Jonas, a scruffy man who pointed a gun at him with watery eyes. But Noah wasn't privileged with the knowledge of why the other was reacting like this, like he was scared of the teen, like he had been hurt. And he promised himself that he wouldn't let whatever had happened occur again, wouldn't let his Jonas end up like this. But he followed the instructions he was given, gently grabbing the other's hand and pushing the gun aside easily as he did so. This Jonas's hands were rough and scarred, but they were nothing compared to the deep crosses of scar tissue that dominated the underside of his arms. It was heartbreaking, to know that someone had hurt the other like this. How many times had Jonas almost been killed? How many times had he been tortured? Even now, the collar around his neck had not faded in the slightest. It was probably sick of him to be glad for that.

As he left the house, he found himself suddenly on his hands and knees, vomiting into a plant. It had felt wrong, giving the other the letter from Martha. Noah didn't even know who she was, only that she died in the apocalypse. But it was clear that she mattered to Adam, to Jonas, and it made him sick. The warmth and hope and love that had entered the other's expression as he took in the handwriting on the envelope had felt like acid in his stomach, felt like a stab in the back. Noah vowed that if he ever met her, he'd kill her himself. She didn't deserve Jonas, didn't deserve paradise. She hadn't lived for the god of Sic Mundus, she hadn't built a church or dug a tunnel for him; and she never would if Noah had his way.

As he entered the bunker, the other location indicated on his map, he found himself senselessly hoping that Jonas was okay, even though it was impossible for the other to be killed if an older version existed. Even as he took in the people in the bunker, Claudia and her dying daughter, the father who would die and his daughter who Noah himself would later protect, his thoughts were only of Jonas. When they would meet again, how it would happen. He had only been told to watch over the deaf girl who was staring at him in wonder, nothing else. But he knew that they would meet again, especially given the way the older Jonas had looked at him, the way the older Noah had looked at Jonas.

His year alone had been rough to say the least. Trying to live in an unfamiliar time, especially this hellscape, wasn't exactly easy. But he survived. He hunted and scavenged and farmed and killed to stay alive, even putting aside resources when he could in anticipation of company. He took up residence deep within the caves that he was so familiar with, making a home for himself. Noah had never been alone like this before, but his belief in paradise kept him going. And even when that failed, just thinking of those baby blue eyes made him smile.

It was a year after the end of the world that he encountered the girl and her father again after he had been shunned by the others. Noah had taken up visiting the Kahnwald house everyday in hopes that one day he would encounter Jonas, but it hadn't happened yet. It was on one of these outings that the meeting occurred. She and her father had been looking for her sister and mother, but it would appear that they hadn't found any clue of them yet. He could understand, the dim hope in her eyes but the scowl on her face. He let her know where she could find him when her father, Peter, arrived. The man had never liked him, had never understood his interest in the child. But he made sure to tell the man that she would be protected when he would die, just as Adam had foretold.

It was less than 24 hours later than he had come home to find the girl shivering in the cave, covered in blood and in shock. His heart went out to her in a way that he had never felt even with his own sister. It was hard to help her when he couldn't even touch her, given that she would begin to fight at even the slightest brush, but eventually she was cleaned out and her head wound was bandaged. It took her a few days to talk to him via her writing in the dirt, to lead him to the camper that her and her father had been inhabiting. There he found her father, dead, along with a stranger that had his head so thoroughly bashed in that Noah couldn't make out any features. With her pencil and pad of paper, she told him what happened, what the man had tried to do. And he smiled darkly as he told her that he deserved to die for what he had done. They grabbed her clothing and whatever food was left, taking them to the cave for safekeeping before they brought her father to the church, burying him in a crude grave with an even cruder marker. Noah was quite the craftsman, but Elisabeth had insisted on doing it herself. It was this outing that had him discovering the grave of one Michael Kahnwald, and some pieces of Jonah's behavior made sense.

They lived together for 2 years before he finally met Jonas again. In that time, he had taught the girl how to survive on her own, and she had taught him a good bit of sign language. It filled the long days and nights, along with the books that she had insisted they steal from the abandoned library. Lis grew before his very eyes in a way that he hadn't noticed with Agnes, she had become a teenager where he was now a true adult. He noticed the way that she would stare at him as he told her time and time again of the paradise they would be delivered to, the way she looked at him like he had hung the moon and the stars. It was the same way he stared at Jonas, he knew. And likewise, the other boy still owned him, body, mind, and soul. So he pitied the crush his charge had on him, and he made extra steps to ensure he didn't give her any false hope.

It had been on one of his daily trips to the Kahnwald residence that he had heard movement upstairs. Lis never knew where he went during the day when he would leave her, and he had stopped her from ever trying to follow him. This was a sacred place, this was his shrine to the boy he had lost in 1921. Noah killed any of the scavengers he encountered here, which is why he snuck up the stairs with murder in his heart and a knife in his hand.

His mind went completely blank when he opened the door to Jonas's room only to find the boy he yearned for hanging from a beam. At first he thought the other was dead, but he had just heard movement and there was no one else up here. As he ran over to cut the boy down, it occurred to him that Jonas had been trying to kill himself. The other had just hit the floor when Noah was upon him, loosening and removing the noose as he called out the boy's name. As the teen took in a harsh gasp, he found himself almost crying with relief. He hovered over his god, running fingers over his throat to make sure he hadn't collapsed his trachea. It was oddly fitting, the way the rope had left a faint burn-

Noah realized in that moment what Jonas's scar was from, as he took in the similarities between the markings. How rough had the rope been, how far had he dropped, how long had he hanged; these were all his questions on his mind as he traced the collar. It was seconds later that Jonas was swatting him away, was stumbling to his feet as he put distance between himself and his savior.

"What are you doing here? Are you following me?" And Noah was unexpected angry, furious, at the other. At how he was even skinnier now, at how his skin was pale under a layer of grime, at how his hair hung longer in front of his face, at how his eyes stared at Noah emptily, at how he had been so ready to kill himself. Jonas had been attempting suicide minutes ago, and he was upset at the assumption that he had been followed?

"You can't die!" He shouted and he pointed a gun, but his words didn't seem to register with the other until he was stalking forward and placing it in Jonas's hands. And even as he knew that the boy couldn't die, he was still scared and hurt and disappointed when the other still brought it to his temple and pulled the trigger. His jump when Noah fired next, sending a bullet into the wall, was rather satisfying as the gravity of his situation set in.

"You promised me; Adam promised me something. That the apocalypse had to happen so that we could all be saved." Had the other not thought at all about what his death would do to the timeline, how it would affect others, how it would affect Noah? What was a priest without his god? What was a man without his obsession?

And as Jonas fell to his knees, looking up at the beam where he had hung himself from, he explained that he had found it fitting to die in the same way, in the same place, as his father before him. That his tests with Claudia never worked, that everyone he loved was dead. But there was no sympathy from Noah, who had never loved anyone at all, who had never had any control over his fate.

The other seemed content to just stay here, wallowing in his failure and own self pity, and Noah made the decision that would alter timelines; that he would keep this boy together no matter the cost, no matter how long it took. So thus he kneeled along with the other, kneeled in prayer in front of his god, and brought Jonas into his arms. He hugged the boy to himself until there were bruises, not letting the other escape his hold. He held him as his struggling eventually subsided, as he gave in, as he fell apart into Noah's sweater. And when the other had passed out, whether from sleep deprivation or the events of the day, Noah lifted him up like a groom would a bride. He carried the boy just like he had so long ago, and he brought him home.

Elisabeth was shocked to see them, both to see the other boy alive and to see Noah helping someone. Given how cutthroat the end of the world had made him, it was rather surprising that he would spare anyone, let alone bring them into their sanctuary. He was sure that she had many questions, but Jonas was his priority right now. He settled the boy into the makeshift bed that he called his own, a mattress from the hotel on top of a bedspring on the ground, before rushing over to the crate where they stored the medical supplies they had amassed. A simple saline drip should do for right now, just to stop the other's organs from shutting down in their dehydrated stated. Elisabeth had to place the IV in Jonas's arm because Noah's hands were shaking too much, the adrenaline rush from saving the other fading fast. And as he used scraps of old clothes to tie up the other boy's hands and feet, wary of giving him anymore rope burns, she merely watched with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't let him leave," he ordered, signing the words as he spoke them. And Lis knew better than to question Noah, or at least his orders. The last time he had been ignored, her father had died.

"How do you know him? How is he alive? Why did you save Jonas?" The questions came in rapid-fire, her small hands moving so fast that it took Noah a second to catch up with the meanings behind them all. And even in ASL, he liked how Jonas's name looked, how it felt.

"He's a traveler," he answered, and she understood that meant that he couldn't tell her anything. He made a conscious decision to not tell his charge that the boy before them would become the Adam who the prophecy mentioned. As things were, it was getting harder to see Adam in Jonas, to see anything at all in the other.

"Go to sleep already, I'll take the first watch," she urged, rolling her eyes at his stubbornness, "I promise I'll wake you up if something happens."

And so she left the part of the cave they called home, shotgun in hand as she headed into the labyrinth of tunnels. And Noah found himself alone with a sleeping Jonas, watching the other in the firelight. In this moment, he remembered the first time he looked upon the other like this, how he had felt then; so excited, so enamored, so confused. And now, he felt scared. He felt unsure, because he didn't know what to do. Jonas wanted to die but couldn't. He actively showed dislike for his loyal disciple, and no one told Noah how hard this would be, keeping someone alive against their will.

There was a part of him that hated Jonas for hating himself; after all, Noah cared about him. The boy had so much self-pity and self-loathing, he was selfish, and he only cared about Martha. It was beyond frustrating. But this was his savior, this was a boy who had been through so much trauma, had seen so much, and he was precious.

Noah laid down next to his captive, pulling a too-thin blanket over the both of them. He would add more wood to the fire when Lis came to wake him up for his watch, but this was as good as it was going to get for now. He knew that when Jonas woke up, he was going to be pissed, was going to try and escape. But he had hope that he could get through to the other, that he could help him get better. It was basically a fantasy to hope that the other boy would stay willingly, that he would live with them. Noah wasn't sure why the idea of him and Jonas raising Lis together made him smile, and even though he didn't look forward to being stuck in this post apocalyptic world, being with the other through it all made it seem more bearable.

He finally fell asleep to the sound of Jonas's soft breathing next to him.


End file.
